


Running Out Of Time

by Graceaphine



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bisexual Hinata Hajime, Bottom Oma Kokichi, Eventual Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi, Gay Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru Are Merged, Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru Share a Body Simultaneously, In other words canon Nagito Komaeda, Komaeda Nagito Is Obsessed With Hope, Komaeda Nagito's Luck Cycle, M/M, Oma Kokichi Needs a Hug, Phantom Thief AU, Sick Komaeda Nagito, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suffering Komaeda Nagito, Terminal Illnesses, Tired Saihara Shuichi, Top Hinata Hajime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graceaphine/pseuds/Graceaphine
Summary: The Phantom Thief - an elusive criminal who has managed to evade the police for nearly a year. Shuichi Saihara, an apprentice detective, manages to catch the thief whilst he is in the middle of a theft. The thief gets away but perhaps the more chilling thing was what he uttered as his small feet elegantly and effortlessly escaped out the balcony.“I’m sorry...”Although the mask hid it well, for a moment, Shuichi saw past it and looked deep into the purple eyes staring back at him - showing the emotions the thief was desperately trying to suppress, as though a window into the thief’s very soul.After accidently staying up late researching the case, Shuichi decides to go out for some fresh air and to eat dinner, having forgotten to do so earlier. Suddenly, Shuichi happens to find a small, terrified boy being abused by some men in the back of an alleyway. After scaring the men off, Shuichi focuses his attention on the shaking, frightened boy before him. Slightly, ever so slightly, the boy raises his head so his eyes meet Shuichi’s.Shuichi’s entire body freezes as he stares back into the boy’s eyes.Those purple, revealing eyes.





	Running Out Of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FixerRefutation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/gifts).



> A late Christmas gift for my amazing friend @FixerRefutation I hope you like it!
> 
> The tags may also be a bit misleading. Although there are a lot of Hajime and Nagito tags, the fanfic is going to be SaiOma based. 
> 
> And because AO3 is stupid and has a limit on the word count for summaries, here's the full summary in it's glorious entirety: 
> 
> The Phantom Thief - an elusive criminal who has managed to evade the police for nearly a year. Shuichi Saihara, an apprentice detective who has been assigned to the case, manages to catch the thief whilst he is in the middle of a theft. The thief gets away but perhaps the more chilling thing was what he uttered as his small feet elegantly and effortlessly escaped out the balcony. 
> 
> “I’m sorry...” 
> 
> Although the mask hid it well, for a moment, Shuichi saw past it and looked deep into the purple eyes staring back at him - showing the emotions the thief was desperately trying to suppress, as though a window into the thief’s very soul.
> 
> The words ring in Shuichi’s head and continuously repeat as though a recording in a radio that is continuously being looped on an endless cycle. After accidently staying up late researching the case, Shuichi decides to go out for some fresh air and to eat dinner, having forgotten to do so earlier. Suddenly, Shuichi happens to find a small, terrified boy being abused by some men in the back of an alleyway. The nobel - or perhaps stupid - side of Shuichi kicks in and after scaring the men off, Shuichi focuses his attention on the shaking, frightened boy before him. Slightly, ever so slightly, the boy raises his head so his eyes meet Shuichi’s.
> 
> Shuichi’s entire body freezes as he stares back into the boy’s eyes.
> 
> Those purple, revealing eyes.
> 
> The boy is surprised too, his eyes wide with shock, fear, pain and probably many other emotions which Shuichi could not even begin to imagine. Neither of them say anything - neither know what to say, let alone do. So many questions float around Shuichi’s head but no matter how hard he tries, his tongue remains glued to the bottom of his mouth. When he finally forces the words out, they’re slow and lacking confidence - which admittedly is nothing new from Shuichi - between nervous and surprised stutters, Shuichi finally gets the words out.
> 
> However, unlike he had planned to, rather than asking the other what had happened and who he was, something entirely different forced it’s way out of his throat.
> 
> “Who’s doing this to you?”
> 
> At first, the boy doesn’t respond. 
> 
> Then he lifts up his sleeve, revealing a small yet prominent mark on his wrist.
> 
> It was a scar - yet not an accidental scar.
> 
> No, the shape was too accurate to be accidental.
> 
> It was most definitely in the shape of a bird.
> 
> The whimpering boy is losing blood quickly, Shuichi realises. The billions of questions Shuchi has will have to wait to be answered after the boy received medical treatment. 
> 
> As Shuichi carries the unconscious boy in his arms into the hospital, he calls out asking for somebody - anybody - to come help the rapidly bleeding boy, whose face is looking paler and paler by the second. 
> 
> Stopping for a moment, Shuichi realises he’s not the only one yelling. 
> 
> Turning, Shuichi sees an unfamiliar brown haired boy, carrying an unconscious, pale and bleeding white-haired boy in his arms.
> 
> Shuichi notices something and his heart races.
> 
> On the white-haired boy’s wrist is a scar, identical to the one on the small boy in Shuichi’s arms wrist, and also in the shape of a bird. 
> 
> This wasn’t just a one-off, drunken murder committed by someone high on drugs or drunk out of their mind.
> 
> This was something far worse.
> 
> There was a serial killer on the loose.

**11/11/20XX**  
2:47 AM  
JOHNSTONE’S RESIDENCE  
SHUICHI 

The Phantom Thief - an elusive criminal who has managed to evade the police for nearly a year. 

And here I am now, face-to-face with the very criminal in the house of perhaps the richest man in the state.

I am an apprentice detective. My uncle is in the police force so it wasn’t a shock that I ended up following in his footsteps - _after all, I’ve spent more of my life living with my auntie and uncle than I’ve spent with my actual parents._ Unlike my uncle though, although he is definitely one of the most skilled detectives on the force, I’m a prodigy. It was by pure luck, but my first _“case”_ was solved by me accidentally coming across definite evidence. That was how I first became known within the world of law enforcement, although being honest, I regret solving that case.

_The trauma that case caused me was worse than being neglected by my parents for half of my life._

I should’ve probably known it was the Phantom Thief when Mr. Johnstone had described the crime to me. A rich snob getting something valuable stolen from him at the exact time it would humiliate them most? Typical Phantom Thief behaviour. 

I had been researching the thief for a while. He was certainly a high class thief. Not even the biggest crime blogs had pictures showing anything more than a mere shadow of him. There was also no name, no age, no description - _nothing._ The only thing we have to go on are accounts given by witnesses - although a lot of them contradicted each other. Some accounts say he wears a cape, some say he has a hat, some say he has a mask, some say he wears gloves, others say his hands weren’t covered and he has a light complexion...The police also know he is apart of a crime organisation called _D.I.C.E -_ he is probably the leader too. 

_D.I.C.E_ had come under the police’s radar not too long before the Phantom Thief had - it started off with them stealing minor things but suddenly, they moved on from stealing things like pieces of bread to stealing jewelry, paintings - things of _much_ higher value. It could just be that they wanted to up their status in the world of crime but I don’t know, I can’t help but think it’s a _bit_ fishy. 

It was a good thing I happened to be nearby when the call came in - I had managed to get here before the thief even had the chance to escape. I chased him throughout practically the whole house and now here we are on the balcony of the victim’s mansion. 

Putting on foot on the rail of the balcony in order to jump off and escape, the thief flashes me traces of a grin from behind his mask, saluting playfully. “Nishi nishi nishi. Well, it's been fun but it seems _I_ have won this round of our little game, Mr. Detective.” the thief says, about to jump off.

Wait a minute, where on Earth is he supposed to jump onto!? There's nothing below the balcony! _If he jumps, he's going to kill himself!_ “Wait!” I call out, quickly reaching out and grabbing the thief’s hand before pulling him back and pinning him against the wall.

Although I can't see much from his mask, I notice the thief’s eyes widen behind it so I must've caught him off guard. “W-What are you…?” the thief mutters, looking slightly dazed.

_Whoops, maybe I was a bit too forceful when I shoved him into the wall._

The thief shakes his head, snapping out of it before giving me a glare and saying, “Let me go!”

I raise an eyebrow.

_Why is he the one giving demands when he's the one who's pinned to a wall?_

“It doesn't have to be this way.” I say, “If you surrender now you might be able to get a reduced sentence or-”

“Sounds great but I personally prefer no sentence at all.” the thief retorts, huffing enough to blow a few strands of hair from his face.

“And besides, don't think I’m stupid enough to fall for _you.”_

_Wait, what?_

“Fall for me?” I ask.

The thief’s eyes widen again and I have a feeling his face is probably tinted red with a blush. “I-I mean...Fall for _your tricks…”_ the thief quickly corrects himself.

_Sure…_

“I’m not tricking you.” I try to tell him.

The thief scoffs, saying, “I’ve heard that one before. I know what you detectives are like. Promising to make deals and stuff but then throwing me into the death chair. No thanks. That's exactly what you're all like.”

“You can't say every single detective in the world is like that.” I point out.

“Of course I can. Are you forgetting who you are talking to, Mr. Detective? I’ve been chased by millions of detectives. Each of them are exactly the same.” the thief replies.

_What's this guy's deal with detectives?_

Well, he's not completely wrong about some of them. Especially the other detectives in my precinct. One of them is Jack Calvary. I don't normally swear but that guy can only be described in one word - an **asshole.** Once he accused one of our other officers, Becky, of misplacing evidence from a crime scene which prevented her from being able to join the FBI. Becky had mentioned many times she always wanted to join the FBI. I suspect Jack did it deliberately as he envied her abilities, or something. My uncle also works in our precinct. He's definitely not one of the people the Phantom Thief was describing just now. He's anything but an unfair, manipulative and deceitful detective. I look up to him a lot, which is why I’m here now. Sure, some officers out there are corrupt but not all of us are.

_Why can't this thief see that?_

“Well, I’m not.” I try to tell him.

I notice the thief visibly flinch and wince at my words. Behind the slits of his mask, I notice the thief’s shining purple eyes dart from side to side, avoiding my gaze. “You know, the least you could do is look at me.” I say.

The thief focuses his gaze on the floor, huffing again before saying childishly, “Don’t want to.”

I growl under my breath, beginning to grow frustrated and running out of patience. He's not even trying to cooperate with me! _How does he expect me to help him if he won't cooperate with me?_ “Come on, just look at me.” I command but still receive no response.

Acting without thinking out of pure frustration, I reach out and forcefully grab the thief’s chin from under his mask and tilt his head so that our gazes meet. As I stare into his wide, purple eyes I notice traces of fear and…

_Sadness?_

_Wait a second!_

I suddenly realise what I just did and I’m immediately overwhelmed with embarrassment. _What's gotten into me?_ Am I seriously _caressing_ this guy’s chin?

_I feel like such a creep.._

A dark red blush spreads over both of our faces. I can feel the thief’s skin turning warm under my iron hard grip. Despite how creepy I probably look right now, I can't bring myself to loosen my grip. His skin is pretty soft and smooth, not hard and cracked like I had imagined. As much as I try to stop myself, my fingers begin trailing down the thief’s jawline.

_Well, I probably already look like the biggest creep ever, why not be even more creepy?_

_Way to go, me…_

Suddenly, something a bit harder and bumpier than the rest of his face brushes against my fingertips.

_What was that?_

The thief squeaks and winces at my touch, quietly saying under his breath, “Ow…”

Huh? Is he in pain? But from what? My touch was only light - _I think_ \- so I doubt it was enough pressure to hurt him. Could he perhaps have an injury? But from what? I never saw him get hurt while I was chasing him, I would’ve been able to catch him if that was the case. It must've been inflicted some other time, when he wasn't stealing. Even so, it sounds like a pretty painful wound. A scratch or cut wouldn't be as discomforting as the thief looks and it wouldn't be sore after such a light touch. Judging from what it feels like, though, it doesn't feel like something as minor as a cut or mere flesh wound.

It feels like a _scar!_

My hand trails down to the edge of his mask, tempted to _finally_ unmask the thief. Before I can investigate further, the thief finally slaps my hand away.

_Frankly, I’m surprised he didn't do it sooner._

“G-Get off me!” the thief snaps.

Before I can react, the thief shoves me away and quickly runs back to the edge of the balcony, standing on the rails once more. I try calling out to him again, hoping it would somehow do something - _anything._

Shockingly, it _does._

The thief turns to look at me. His signature teasing grin that practically every officer on the force has haunting them in their head falters for a moment and is instead replaced by something else. Unlike a few minutes prior, I now know definitely this time what that expression is.

_Sadness._

Although he was still wearing his mask, I feel like I am looking past that mask and instead at the person _underneath._ The Phantom Thief - _normally so childish, teasing and elusive -_ now looks like an entirely different person. However, as I look into his eyes now, it's as though a metaphorical dam in his brain has been broken. All at once I see each and every one of the emotions he had desperately been trying to suppress flow across his face like an ocean of emotions. 

For probably the first time in his entire life, I don't see the Phantom Thief as a thief or a criminal, instead I see him as a broken and damaged person - _someone who desperately needs help but has been scarred so much that he is unable to rely on the help of others._

This probably sounds odd, especially from a detective, but I feel terrible for him.

I _sympathise_ with him. 

I notice thief’s lips moving and I have to strain my ears to hear what the Phantom Thief is saying.

“I’m sorry…” 

Before I can respond or the words fully process in my mind, the thief jumps off the balcony.

_Oh crap!_

I run to the edge of the balcony and look down, fearing the worst.

Did he just commit _suicide_ in front of me!? 

However, as I look down, I don't hear screaming or the sound of bones breaking. There's also no body on the ground below.

_Where on Earth did he go?_

Along with confusionment, embarrassment spreads across my face. Though I’m not sure if the latter is due to the thief getting away or rather because I probably sounded and looked like I was _flirting_ with him…

It's going to be sooo fun explaining this to my boss… 

**18/11/20XX**  
11:33 PM  
ALLEYWAY  
SHUICHI

“I’m sorry.” 

I haven’t been able to get those words out of my head since that night a couple of days ago. It’s like a recording of the Phantom Thief’s voice is somehow stuck on my head and constantly on repeat. I’ve been trying to find any information on the thief or anything regarding the crimes he’s been involved in - I even searched up the biggest crime news websites, like Tattle Crime.

I _still_ can’t find anything. 

I had gotten so immersed in my research that I had forgotten to have dinner. It’s too late to cook anything now so I decided to just go out for dinner.

The only downside is that the only non-expensive restaurants that are still open at this time are in _that_ part of town… 

I guess it’s not anything too bad - it’s mostly just people getting high and drunk a lot and a lot of people graffiti and litter everyone. It’s not like many murders or assaults happen.

_Still though, I don’t really like going into this part of town._

A lot of homeless people and orphans live on the streets here - _I feel way too guilty looking at them._ If I had room in my house, I would totally take them in. Though my cheap, small and rundown home is probably just as bad as living on the streets. The few friends that I have, have never been to my place. I don’t feel comfortable with having other people at my place. Not because I don’t want to, mind you, but rather because I’m too embarrassed. It does get lonely being on my own most of the time but I keep myself busy with work. It’s not terrible, I can manage it.

_I’m fine on my own._

I’m distracted from my thoughts by the sounds of voices coming from a nearby alleyway. They’re talking quietly so I can’t make out what they’re saying. Who would be talking in an alleyway at nearly midnight? Maybe it’s some kids doing drugs or something? No, I should just mind my own business. I don’t even have any reason to believe that it’s something suspicious-

“H-Hey! Get your hands off of me!” 

I jump at the sound of a voice in the alleyway. The yelling tone of the voice is loud enough to allow me to hear.

_For some reason, that voice sounds familiar to me but I’m too tired to think of where I might have heard it before._

_What I do know, though, is that it sounds like someone is being assaulted in the alleyway and I have to go save them._

As a rush into the alleway - my movements a little bit sluggish due to being tired - I see a group of men pinning a small boy, who I cannot see much, to the wall. They appear to be in a gang, based upon their coordinated clothes and the symbols they’re all wearing. One of them, whom appears to be the leader of the group, is on his knees, trying to take off the shaking boy’s pants.

“P-P-Please! Stop! I don’t want this! Please-” the boy with the familiar voice begs, only to have his head slammed against the wall.

“It doesn’t matter what you want, you worthless piece of shit, what matters is what we want. Isn’t that right, boys?” the man says, the others with him all naturally agreeing with him.

A choked sob escapes the poor boy and finally, I force myself to do something and step in. 

“Stop right there!” I yell, jumping out from behind them and aiming my gun at them, “I’m with the police. Get away from him or else I will shoot!” 

Every officer obviously gets a standard handgun. I don’t use mine often but it does make for some pretty cool moments - _this being one of them._

One of the men - _who I assume is the leader -_ bursts into laughter, sneering as he mocks me, “Seriously? A goofy wannabe like you being in the police force? As if. Do you really think you can just pretend to be the police and-” 

I cut him off by shooting the wall behind him, aiming so my bullet narrowly misses him. I don’t want to kill him, after all, I just want to scare him so he’ll take his goons and leave. “Shit! The dick has a gun!” the man curses before turning to look at the others behind him, “Come on, boys! Let’s get out of here!” 

Most of them immediately make a run for it as soon as they hear those words. I’m about to follow them - _I can’t let them get away -_ when I hear a shriek from behind me. The one who had been holding the poor victim in place has stabbed him and thrown him onto the ground. Already, a pile of blood is forming at an alarming speed on the floor around the poor boy. “No!” I gasp, shocked at the man’s cruelty.

I lock eyes with him and see nothing but malice and spite in his eyes. A wicked grin spreads across his lips and although he says nothing, I can almost hear him mocking me, as if saying, “You came to save him and the kid is still going to die. You’re pathetic at your job.” 

I’m not normally a person who gets angry easily, however, seeing that smirk _\- how he can be so cruel to other human beings -_ anger suddenly overwhelms me like a storm. I can barely think about my next course of action. All I see is the different haze of colours as my surroundings blur together into blobs of colour.

_I see red. ___

__Suddenly, I’m pulling the trigger of my gun._ _

_  
___  


__The man screams loudly from both shock and pain as the bullet firmly lodges itself into the side of his shoulder - a non-fatal shot. The man’s grin is gone and he’s now fleeing for his life as I stand there, my breathing heavy and fast as though I am being suffocated. My body is shaking - _whether it’s from shock or adrenaline, I can’t say -_ and my trembling hands are causing for the gun to shake, thus creating a rattling sound that echoes throughout the sewage-smelling alleyway. Apart of me wants to go after the man but as I hear a small, weak groan - well, it was more like a plea then a groan - I immediately forget about all that and focus my attention on the shaking, scared-to-death boy in front of me. Putting my gun away, I slowly approach the boy, saying, “Hey, are you okay?” _ _

__My only response is a small whimper and the victim tries to turn his head away but I still notice a drop running down his cheek. “It’s okay, you don’t have to be scared. Those guys who attacked you are gone now.” I tell him as I pull out my phone, “I’m going to call for an ambulance now, okay?”_ _

__A squeak comes from the boy and for some reason, it sounds more like a sound of protest, rather than gratitude or confirmation. I dial emergency services and the operator on the other side speaks in an extremely sluggish and moody tone - as though she doesn’t really want to be there or she’s tired or something.__

___Well, aren’t we all?__ _

___ _  


__After the lady tells me that an ambulance is on it’s way, she abruptly hangs up.__

___Well, she wasn’t much help…__ _

___ _  


__Of course, I’m going to stay with this guy until the ambulance arrives. Maybe if I talk to him, prevent him from losing consciousness, it’ll help. I can also try to stop the bleeding, at the very least._ _

__I kneel beside him and thankfully, I don’t vomit from the smell of his blood which had now taken up most of the floor. “Hey, talk to me, alright? I need to ask you some question so I can catch the guys who hurt you.” I say, earning a small nod in response.__

___Thank God, he can at least do that…__ _

___ _  


__“Can we start off with your name?” I ask._ _

__Immediately, the boy’s breathing quickens and he begins to panic, furiously shaking his head while mumbling a string of incomprehensible noises. The only words I can make out are “I can’t” which the boy repeats multiple times over._ _

__“I need to tell the doctors your name so they can help you.” I try to say but only seem to distress the victim out more._ _

__Realising that working him up by pressing him over what seems like a touchy subject is obviously not going to help so as curious as I am, I decide to ask something else. “Do you know those guys that attacked you?” I ask but the kid only shrugs in response.__

___Why can’t this ever be easy?__ _

___ _  


__“Look, I’m trying to help you. I can’t do that if you’re not honest with me-” the words suddenly get stuck in my throat as the boy weakly turns his head and looks up to meet my gaze._ _

__I feel my entire body freeze as our eyes lock, both of our eyes wide with shock as we instantly recognise each other.__

___T-Those eyes!__ _

___ _  


__He is just as shocked as me by the looks of it - an emotion I never thought I would ever see on that face. There’s fear, pain, shock as well as about a million of other emotions mixed into his gaze. There is a deadly silence as neither of us say anything - neither us know what to say or do. I have so many things I want to say, don’t get me wrong, but for some reason it’s as though my tongue is glued to the bottom of my mouth. I finally manage to push some words out and throw them together into as much of a comprehensible sentence as I can muster. My voice is slow and lacking confidence - _which is basically the story of my life -_ and between nervous and shocked stutters, I finally manage to speak, however, the words that come out aren’t what I had planned on saying.__

__“Who’s doing this to you?”__

 _ ___

At first, there is no response

____

Then he suddenly lifts up his sleeve, revealing a small yet prominent mark on his wrist.

____

_It’s a scar - yet not an accidental scar._

____

_No, the shape is too accurate to be accidental._

____

_It is most definitely in the shape of a bird._

____

_W-What the-?_

____

___ _  


__I want to question what it means but another groan escapes the boy and I realise he is still losing blood rapidly, despite the cloth I had pressed against his wound several minutes ago.__

___Where the heck is the stupid ambulance?___

 _ ___

_Looks like I’ll have to drag the kid there myself. I can’t stand around here and wait all day for the ambulance - he’s going to die!_

____

_My billions of questions will have to be answered later._

____

___ _  


__Thankfully, I know from one of my evenings on patrol that there’s a hospital not too far away from here. I carry the dying boy in my arms all the way to the hospital, running faster than I’ve ever ran in my entire life. My heart has never beaten so fast and I’ve never felt so rushed before. The kid passes out from blood loss after the first couple of steps which only adds to my anxiety._ _

____**18/11/20XX**  
12:57 AM  
HOSPITAL  
SHUICHI   
As I burst in through the doors of the hospital, carrying the unconscious boy in my arms, I scream as loud as I can - _again, I am not usually a loud person -_ for somebody to come help us and that the boy was dying. 

__My breath catches in my throat as I look down at the kid, who is looking paler and paler by the second. I continue yelling, not even caring about the pain in my throat or the fact that it feels like it’s about to explode._ _

__I stop for a moment to catch my breath but suddenly realise that there’s someone else yelling with as much urgency and desperation in their voice as me. A couple of feet away is a brown haired boy, carrying an unconscious, pale and bleeding white-haired boy in his arms. However, that’s not all. There’s another sight that makes my heart pound even more than it was a second ago._ _

____

__

__The white haired boy has a scar on his wrist, identical to the one on the wrist of the small boy in my arms - both are shaped as a bird.__

__

_That’s when I realise._

__

__This isn't just a one-off, drunken murder committed by someone high on drugs or drunk out of their mind.

__

This is something far worse.

__

There is a serial killer on the loose. 

__

__  



End file.
